


This Year's Mr January is a Keeper

by katmarajade



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-15
Updated: 2014-12-15
Packaged: 2018-03-01 15:07:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 631
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2777657
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/katmarajade/pseuds/katmarajade
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lavender convinces Oliver to pose for a charity calendar featuring sexy Quidditch stars.</p>
            </blockquote>





	This Year's Mr January is a Keeper

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Rozarka](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rozarka/gifts).



> Written for thimble-kiss as part of my annual holiday gift fic series. After four years of requesting Zacharias pairings, she shocked me with this prompt! I had a lot of fun with it though. I had to throw in a tiny Zach shout out though … just 'cause!

"I'm sorry—a what?"

"A calendar," Lavender enunciated as if she were speaking to a dim four-year-old.

"But what do you need me for?" Oliver Wood ran a hand through his bristly brown hair and stared at the woman in front of him in complete confusion.

"It's a Quidditch calendar for charity. We choose twelve of the sexiest Quidditch stars in the League, photograph them in slightly naughty ways, and the Wizarding public pays out the nose for them, ostensibly because all the proceeds go to the War Orphans Fund, but really because they want to ogle yummy, fit, sexily-clothed men all year long. It's really quite simple."

"And you want me to pose for this … _thing_ for you."

"No, Oliver," Lavender said solemnly, placing a small hand on his broad shoulder. "I want you to do this for the orphans."

♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥

"I don't think this is such a good idea," Oliver called from the loo, where he was getting dressed for his photo shoot.

"Why in Merlin's name not? I gave you one of the best costumes."

"Well, it's not much of a kit, now is it? I think it's too small—and perhaps missing a few important pieces."

"That was actually the point."

Oliver choked back a girly shriek as Lavender strode into the loo, and he attempted to cover himself with the nearest available thing, a pink towel with kittens embroidered around the edges.

"Now, now, Wood. Put down the frilly towel. We don't want people thinking you're dressed up as Umbridge, now do we?"

"Who?" Oliver asked distractedly, debating what his best exit was.

"Never mind. Now let's see that cute bum of yours."

"You know, I really don't know if this is going to work. Perhaps I'm not the best man for the job. Why don't I –"

He stopped abruptly when Lavender fixed him with a stern look. "Really? A professional Quidditch star like you? Ashamed of his own body? Well, I'm sure I could find someone sexier for January. We like to start the year off with a _bang_ , if you know what I mean. Really get them hooked. I _was_ going to use you for that spot, but I could get someone else. You know, Zacharias Smith is starting for Appleby this year. Annoying git, but Merlin, that boy is looking good these days. Maybe I should start with a newcomer, a fresh face, shock them all. What do you think, Wood?"

"Smith?" Oliver nearly dropped his towel. "Are you barking, woman?"

"So you think that you're sexier than Smith?" Lavender asked, her face a picture of innocent curiosity.

"Aye, of course I bloody well am! He's a scrawny upstart who's still practically in nappies!"

Lavender assessed his costume, which had been revealed when he'd accidentally dropped his towel during his tirade.

"All right then, Wood. That will do nicely. Quite nicely. Let's show them what you've got. That you're sexier than ickle Smithikins, yeah?"

He was already pulled into the main room, placed among swaths of draped, beige fabric and excessively bright lights, and posed with his foot on a fancy Quidditch ball case and a broom in his hand before he realised that he'd been played.

Suddenly very aware that he was being photographed in nothing but tartan-patterned briefs, Oliver felt a rush of blood to his face.

"Smile, gorgeous," called Lavender. She pulled her head away from behind the camera just long enough to shoot him a saucy wink and give him a little smirk. Oliver flushed even more fiercely as it became extremely apparent that his face was not the only part of him getting a bit of extra blood flow from this whole ridiculous situation.

Damn, she was good. And hot. And evil.

Oliver gave her his best roguish grin. 


End file.
